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Heavenly Treasures

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We are all familiar with today’s Gospel story about the rich young man who is unable to surrender his wealth in order to follow Jesus, and especially Jesus’ perplexing comments about a camel and the eye of a needle.  

It can be easy for us to feel superior to the young man. We imagine that OF COURSE we would give away our wealth and follow Jesus, because IT’S JESUS! 

Just the other day I was talking to my youngest son about what he had learned in his sociology class about wealth in this country. We agreed that if WE were billionaires we would be embarrassed to have so much money when we could give all of it away and do so much good in the world.

But then I remembered something Basil the Great once said: “When someone steals another’s clothes, we call them a thief. Should we not give the same name to one who could clothe the naked and does not? The bread in your cupboard belongs to the hungry; the coat unused in your closet belongs to the one who needs it; the shoes rotting in your closet belong to the one who has no shoes; the money which you hoard up belongs to the poor.”

We are not rich by any means, but like most Americans we have more than we need. How many coats do you have? I am embarrassed to say how many pairs of shoes I have. Does your bread get moldy because you do not finish it in time? Are we any better than the rich young man?

There is a lot of chatter these days about minimalism and decluttering. We as a culture collectively realize that we have too many things. But paradoxically we remain a nation of consumers, and online shopping has made it simple to instantly gratify our perceived need for stuff.  

God wants so much more for us. In the First Letter of Peter we learn about the riches God can bestow: “a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading.” Instead of earthly goods we should be seeking “faith, more precious than gold that is perishable.”  The Responsorial Psalm reminds us that God “has made known to his people the power of his works, giving them the inheritance of the nations.”

Was it easier for Peter, Andrew, James, and John to drop their nets, abandon their boats, and follow Jesus because they were holier than the rich young man, or because they had less to leave? Today let us consider how our possessions affect our relationship with God and our neighbor. 

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal; for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:19-21).

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Leslie Sholly is a Catholic, Southern wife and mother of five, living in her hometown, Knoxville, Tennessee. She graduated from Georgetown University with an English major and Theology minor. She blogs at Life in Every Limb, where for 11 years she has covered all kinds of topics, more recently focusing on the intersection of faith, politics, and social justice.

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Did You Find The Beam?

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One of my favorite books in the Old Testament is Sirach. Today we all get a taste with just a few verses. Verse seven of today’s reading says, “Praise no man before he speaks, for it is then that a man is tested.” I picked that because of what happened to me a few years ago. A very famous Bible teacher came to the Grand Rapids area and I went to hear him. Before the talk, he was standing by the podium by himself. So, I went up there and started some small talk. As I left I said, “I’ll say a prayer for you”. His response was, “I’m sure I’ll be fine”. I couldn’t believe it! I was hurt and angry! I guess my little prayer was something he did not need. Days later, I was still upset. I finally let the Lord breakthrough. He said, “What about you??” Well, I don’t think I have enough fingers to count the times I have put my foot in my mouth! Way too many times! I’m convinced, it was a wakeup call from on high.

The readings for today are very blunt and have a lot to do with being careful with our speech. Has anyone ever said to you, “Why are you so ordinary today?” The answer is, “Well, I got up on the wrong side of the bed”. We all know that’s a pretty weak answer. If we are honest with ourselves and go back over all the emotions of each day and the things that came out of our mouths, we might be saddened and embarrassed realizing what may have happened. The Lord gives us time to repair the damage.

Sirach uses nature to get his point across. For those of you that are familiar with growing fruit and veggies, you know that the time you invest in the ground prep, seeding, watering, and cultivating produce great results. And of course, negligence produces the opposite effect. It’s about the same for us, the more time we invest in curbing our speech and asking for God’s help in the manner, the more Christ-like we become. The more Christ-like we become, the closer we come to God. The Church used to use the phrase “Economy of Words” in its teachings. Simply put, our excess use of words can get us into trouble. As we approach Lent it might be a good time for us to give some thought to “Economy of Words”.

Serving With Joy!

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Deacon Dan Schneider is a retired general manager of industrial distributors. He and his wife Vicki have been married for over 50 years. They are the parents of eight children and thirty grandchildren. He has a degree in Family Life Education from Spring Arbor University. He was ordained a Permanent Deacon in 2002.  He has a passion for working with engaged and married couples and his main ministry has been preparing couples for marriage.

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Called To Be A Compelling Sign Of Hope

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Everyone knows the proverb “It takes a village to raise a child.” It means that children need an entire community of people providing for them and engaging them constructively for those children to grow into healthy and wholesome adults.

Today’s two readings, however, have made me wonder if it is not just children who need a village to support and walk with them. Don’t we all? Don’t we even as adults have this deep sense that we need others to be with us, for us, to truly know our own worth, that we need to be welcomed by others in order to truly welcome ourselves? Looking back on the changes in my life, it was the times that I didn’t feel a safety net of people who would hold, support, care about, anoint, pray and walk with me that I seemed to shrivel inside. Some place deep within my soul knew that I needed to be in communion with others in a vulnerable, honest, mutually responsible way to feel whole, to blossom, and to eventually, in my own turn, give life to others.

In the beginning of the reading from James, he asks: Is anyone suffering? Is anyone undergoing hardships? Ill-treated or distressed? He directs them to connect with God in the community of faith. We might know the wisdom of the world in this regard as: Are you suffering? Stay at home, crawl in bed. Or try harder, be strong, you can do it. Are you in good spirits? Treat yourself. Buy something you like. Go to the bar. Are you sick? Go to the doctor. And if there is a difficult diagnosis, call your friends afterwards and ask for prayers. In other words, we live very individual lives, trying to make it on our own, seeking out our own happiness, not expecting others to be with us. 

A couple stories. I know two people who took considerable time off work just to be at the service of someone who was sick and needed assistance to and from the doctor as well as a hand to hold during the scary time of “not knowing” the outcome of their treatment.

Recently I read in The Wild Edge of Sorrow the author’s experience in the village of Dano in Burkina Faso in West Africa. He tells of the practice of the villagers who come together every night in the common area of the village just to share their day with each other. There was food and beer, stories, tears, laughter, rejoicing. Children were present, and played together as they ran through the adults who were welcoming each other’s lives and hearts through the narration of the day’s experiences. There was a huge sense of connection in the safe space that was created by this daily ritual for vulnerability, compassion, and cheering one another on. While there, the author met a young woman, about seventeen years old, who had an extensive burn scar on her face. She wasn’t self-conscious, but seemed happy and outgoing. When he inquired about what had happened to her, he was told that her mother had thrown boiling water on her in a fit of rage. But immediately after that the village came together and let this girl know that what her mother had done was wrong and had nothing to do with her, and that she was loved and cherished by the people of the village and would always be so. 

In the Gospel, the apostles were indignant that mothers of little children of no real significance thought they had the right to encroach upon the very important time of Jesus. The mothers wanted Jesus “to touch them.” Jesus used touch to bless, heal, include. It was an act of intimacy, an assurance that the other was being seen and was known by him, by God. Jesus was indignant that the apostles were not opening the community to include these tiny members of God’s people. How embarrassed must the mothers have felt. Humiliated. Excluded. 

Jesus and James call the Church to be a communion of faith where people are there for each other, a compelling sign of hope that ultimately we are one with each other and will be there for each other, and a witness to a way of life that is truly human and truly divine. 

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Sr. Kathryn J. HermesKathryn James Hermes, FSP, is the author of the newly released title: Reclaim Regret: How God Heals Life’s Disappointments, by Pauline Books and Media. An author and spiritual mentor, she offers spiritual accompaniment for the contemporary Christian’s journey towards spiritual growth and inner healing. She is the director of My Sisters, where people can find spiritual accompaniment from the Daughters of St. Paul on their journey. Website: www.touchingthesunrise.com Public Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/srkathrynhermes/ For monthly spiritual journaling guides, weekly podcasts and over 50 conferences and retreat programs join my Patreon community: https://www.patreon.com/srkathryn.

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Two Become One

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This summer, God willing, my wife and I will celebrate our 35th wedding anniversary. Reflecting on that makes me feel totally inadequate to discuss the topic of today’s Gospel, divorce. And yet, at the same time, reflecting honestly on 35 years of marriage makes me feel totally inadequate to discuss marriage. What do I really know, and what can I tell anyone else that would help them based on the life I have lived? Can I even find the words? 

I do know this: Marriage is the easiest thing in the world, if you do it correctly. Moses permitted divorce because he saw people weren’t doing it correctly. “Because of the hardness of your hearts” he allowed it. Now, this brings to mind something I heard a priest say once that has always stuck with me: “If you’re going to bring people to Jesus, you have to meet them where they are.” Of course, he didn’t mean in a physical or geographical sense; he was talking about where people are in their faith, their spiritual journey. You have to assess and accept where they are, not where you expect they should be. I see this concept in Moses’ bill of divorce, that the people weren’t in a place to see the underlying truth in marriage. When the Pharisees bring it up with Jesus, he sees they are ready to hear the truth and he gives it to them straight: Married people “are no longer two but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, no human being must separate.” But even before that, Jesus gets to the bedrock basics of the situation: “From the beginning of creation, God made them male and female.”

“God made them” and “God has joined.” And God does all of this out of His infinite love. That’s marriage, folks. Our marriage is not about my wife and me. It’s about her and me and God. His love created us, joins us, sustains us, forgives us. And only by loving God completely, putting Him at the center of our lives, can we properly love each other, can we become one flesh. No longer is the self the focus, it’s that precious gift of God’s love, including in the person of our spouse. And this is not just a marriage thing. We can’t do single life or celibacy or consecrated life properly, either, without surrendering our path to the loving will of God.

I once asked my wife a trick question: Who do you think is more important, you or me? Knowing me as well as she does, she knew I was up to something, so I had to explain, yes, it’s all in the choice of words. Not “who is” more important but “who do you think?” Because when it comes to any relationship based on mutual love, our main focus cannot be ourselves. And nearly 35 years of togetherness has taught us that I left the most important member of this relationship — God — out of that trick question. 

Marriage is the easiest thing in the world, if you do it correctly. But all of us being humans, we don’t do it correctly all of the time. Love is easy to talk about but not always easy to do in our sinful human condition. Luckily, we have a marriage partner more than willing to help us, if we remember to keep Him at the center of it.

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Mike Karpus is a regular guy. He grew up in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, graduated from Michigan State University and works as an editor. He is married to a Catholic school principal, raised two daughters who became Catholic school teachers at points in their careers, and now relishes his two grandchildren, including the 3-year-old who teaches him what the colors of Father’s chasubles mean. He has served on a Catholic School board, a pastoral council and a parish stewardship committee. He currently is a lector at Mass, a Knight of Columbus, Adult Faith Formation Committee member and a board member of the local Habitat for Humanity organization. But mostly he’s a regular guy.

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Salt and Sin as Synonyms

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When someone says winter to me I think of snow as I’ve lived in the midwest most of my life. Indiana, Iowa, Pennsylvania, and Michigan collectively average thirty eight inches of snow, however, this varies greatly depending on which part of the state you live in. The air temperatures fluctuate a lot during the winter months too, frequently going back and forth over the freezing mark which can cause ice build up on the roads.

What this has to do with today’s readings is simple; salt. Salt and water are a corrosive combination which accelerate the decomposition of metals, roadbeds, fabrics and many other materials. Too much salt in your diet can lead to problems with blood pressure, heart disease, kidney issues, headaches, osteoporosis, stomach cancer, and stroke.

Sin is a killer. Each sin makes it easier for the next sin to occur. It leads to more distance between me and the light and love of God. The fear of a secret sin being revealed, judgment or punishment due to an act or a wrongful deed, can keep me away from the saving grace and healing power in the sacraments of Reconciliation and Eucharist.

Sin and salt are both corrosive. You do need some salt in your diet (fifteen hundred milligrams or less per day for adults, however in the USA an adult averages 3,400mg) to be healthy. Sin is not needed on a daily basis or ever. Even a ‘little’ sin can quickly lead to barreling down the slippery slope to Gehenna.  To paraphrase today’s Gospel, ‘Sin, don’t do it; just cut it out!’

Keeping the love of Jesus Christ, the Lord God in our hearts, good Words in our minds, and receiving the sacraments as frequently as we are able to in our lives, will help keep sin’s corrosive nature away. Great friends and a spiritual director who know you well will also help to keep you honest with yourself. Maybe this Lent my focus will be, ‘Sin, don’t do it; just cut it out!”

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Beth Price is part of the customer care team at Diocesan. She is a Secular Franciscan (OFS) and a practicing spiritual director. Beth shares smiles, prayers, laughter, a listening ear and her heart with all of creation. Reach her here bprice@diocesan.com.

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Memento Mori – Remember That You Will Die

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We hear a strange reprimand from St. James today: “Come now, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we shall go into such and such a town, spend a year there doing business, and make a profit’—you have no idea what your life will be like tomorrow.” (Jas 4:13–14). He says that instead of speaking like this, we should say, “If the Lord wills it…”

It doesn’t seem like a big deal to speak about the future in this way, but St. James is trying to tell us that the future depends on God. Even if God does not directly cause every event in life, He at least allows it to happen, and He does so for good reason. Most of us understand that almost nothing in life goes exactly as planned. At this point, I’ve taken to planning for the future with the mindset of St. James: “These are my plans, but if the Lord wills it, something else will happen and I’ll adjust.”

There is a deeper truth here, and St. James makes it rather explicit when he says that “you are a puff of smoke that appears briefly and then disappears” (Jas 4:14). This reminds me of the popular Christian phrase memento mori, “Remember that you will die.” Saints have kept this phrase in mind through the centuries, knowing that one day all of their earthly plans will come to an abrupt end.

This need not be depressing; in fact, it served as a motivator for these saints. St. Jerome, for example, is said to have kept a skull in his workspace to remind him of this truth and motivate him to do good work for the Lord. We can react to the truth of our death with despair, or we can let it motivate us to strive without ceasing to enter heaven. Death can be our destruction, translating us into the infernal kingdom, or it can be a glorious beginning, translating us into the heavenly Kingdom with God.

The attitude fostered by this preparation for death is one of humble resignation and poverty of spirit, spoken of by St. James and the Psalmist today, and exemplified by the martyrdom of St. Polycarp, whose feast we celebrate today.

If we know death is coming and seek to prepare in hope of spending eternity with the Lord, we will strive to accept everything that comes our way, no matter how difficult, as something that God permits for our holiness. We will understand, as the Psalmist does, that we cannot take riches with us beyond the grave, but we can take the divine life of grace given to those who live a life of virtue and frequent the Sacraments.

Reading the brief account of the martyrdom of St. Polycarp, a direct disciple of John the Apostle and Bishop of Smyrna, we can see how this plays out when we are face to face with death. Polycarp did not panic when he heard of his martyrdom: he initially stayed put and prayed. When questioned by the Roman official, he firmly defended Christianity and declined to be nailed in place, explaining that he would not try to run from the fire prepared for him.

St. Polycarp completed his life at the age of eighty-six, stabbed after glowing gold and smelling of baked bread in the fire that was supposed to kill him. His holy resignation to the will of God, even when expressed through martyrdom, is an inspiration for all of us. We may not have to face what he did, but we all must face death, and the more we prepare to meet Our Lord the better off we will be when that day comes. Memento mori!

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David Dashiell is a freelance writer, editor, and proofreader based in the Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania area. His writing has been featured in Crisis Magazine and The Imaginative Conservative, and his editing is done for a variety of publishers, such as Sophia Institute and Scepter. He can be reached at ddashiellwork@gmail.com.

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Living Witnesses

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The Catholic world has been rocked in recent years by many scandals committed by those ordained to serve their flock. Creating a sort of no-win scenario, conversations tend to balance between outright disgust for our priests or holding them up on a pedestal and believing they can do no wrong. Within this mess of at times unfair judgement and at other times outright clericalism, one will find those humble priests who still live out the whole reason they were ordained, to serve.

In today’s First Reading, there are really two major themes that Peter is communicating to his fellow presbyters, which are still quite applicable today. The first is this notion that priests share in a special way in the glory that has been revealed. The second, is that priests should tend to their flock.

Why do we hold priests in such high esteem? In short, it’s because Jesus has called these men to be witnesses. One of the reasons priests practice celibacy is because they are not just a holy witness of life here on earth, but they live in a way that foreshadows what our life will be like in heaven. They are living, in a sense, the redemption we will all experience at the end of time. I like to describe this fact by using the analogy of eating food. When we eat a meal we immediately taste the goodness of the food, but we don’t receive the fullness of it until we digest it and use it for energy. It’s the same with redemption. We have a taste of redemption now, we long for the fullness of redemption in heaven. Priests then, are an example to us of living the line between both, heaven and earth.

So then the question may be asked, well what if a priest isn’t a good example for us? And here is where the second part of the First Reading comes in. Priests are called to serve. The very way that they are an example to us of the divine is by imitating Christ, the King who came not to be served but to serve. This is not an easy task nor one that should be taken lightly. It becomes even more difficult by the simple fact that we live in a fallen world. I remember when I was discerning the priesthood it became very clear to me how broken men can be who receive the call. It’s not as if you put on that collar and all of a sudden you can do no wrong. So where is all of this going?

The point here is that God has ordained men on this earth to be examples of life in heaven. They ultimately fulfill this reality when they are in service to their flock, just like Jesus was and is. But we also have to be aware of the reality that we live in a fallen world and priests, bishops, and popes are not always going to be perfect. So what is the answer? To me it seems simple, we must believe in the power of prayer and pray ardently for our priests. Instead of towing the line between disgust and worship, let’s pray that our priests will take up the call they have been given and become shining examples here on earth of what it will be like in heaven. A good place to start is the prayer below. From all of us here at Diocesan, God bless!

Gracious and loving God, we thank you for the gift of our priests. Through them, we experience your presence in the sacraments. Help our priests to be strong in their vocation. Set their souls on fire with love for your people. Grant them the wisdom, understanding, and strength they need to follow in the footsteps of Jesus. Inspire them with the vision of your Kingdom. Give them the words they need to spread the Gospel. Allow them to experience joy in their ministry. Help them to become instruments of your divine grace. We ask this through Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns as our Eternal Priest. Amen.

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Tommy Shultz is a Business Development Representative for Diocesan. In this role he is committed to bringing the best software to dioceses and parishes while helping them evangelize on the digital continent. Tommy has worked in various diocese and parish roles since his graduation from Franciscan University with a Theology degree. He hopes to use his skills in evangelization, marketing, and communications, to serve the Church and bring the Good News to all. His favorite quote comes from St. John Paul II, who said, “A person is an entity of a sort to which the only proper and adequate way to relate is love.”

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Fidelity Helps My Unbelief

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Often my prayer resembles the words spoken by the boy’s father in Mark’s Gospel, who has come to beg the Lord to heal his son, “But if you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us” (Mark 9:22). And in my heart, not only do I hear Jesus’ gentle and kind response, “‘If you can!’ everything is possible to one who has faith,” but I also cry out like the boy’s father cried out, “I do believe, help my unbelief” (Mark 9:14-29)!

I do believe and trust Jesus can help, most of the time, but part of me constantly wrestles with surrender. I am often a woman of little faith that craves signs and wonders to help me believe. In boldness, embracing Jesus’ teaching to ask and it will be given to you (Matthew 7:7), I request oddly specific signs, so there are no lingering doubts. Remarkably, in His mercy, these harbingers and wonders often appear.

I love the Rosary, especially the 54-Rosary Novena devotion. A few years ago, the Spirit nudged me outside to pray. At first, I assumed it was to keep me away from the distractions of my desk, home, and phone. However, the Spirit was about to reveal a much bigger plan. Since I live on a busy street, I decided to do laps around the perimeter of my yard—think Joshua (and friends) and the Walls of Jericho (Joshua 6).

As I made my last circuit, in knots about the current state of my life, I looked to heaven and aired my grievances. “Lord, what do you want from me? I never miss Sunday Mass, and I diligently pray the Rosary. I have even given my life to telling people how awesome you are, and this is my reward? A life overflowing with many hardships — illness, death, financial difficulties, and family discord! Again, Lord, I ask, what do you want from me?”  

As I completed the behind-the-house leg of my Rosary journey that day and turned to face the highway that runs along the front of my home, a tractor-trailer passing by caught my attention. On the side of the truck, in giant red letters, was the word — FIDELITY! 

Fidelity? Really, Lord! The fancy Latin-rooted word, which not so coincidentally means faithfulness, had to be an answer to my cry of distress. Is that what you want? How could I ignore the timing of the truck’s appearance? Only God could arrange the precision of that moment. Furthermore, after twenty years of traffic watching along that same highway, this was the truck’s first appearance!

My trust grew exponentially from that god-incidence moment; the world would see this situation as a coincidence, but I knew it to be heaven reaching through the veil to assure me everything is possible with faith. Just be faithful; I can do that, Lord. I will continue to pray, hope, and wait on you — one Rosary bead at a time. Lord, I believe, thank you for shining into my life to help my unbelief. 

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Allison Gingras works for WINE: Women In the New Evangelization as National WINE Steward of the Virtual Vineyard. She is a Social Media Consultant for the Diocese of Fall River and CatholicMom.com. She is a writer, speaker, and podcaster, who founded ReconciledToYou.com and developed the Stay Connected Journals for Catholic Women (OSV).   

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The views and opinions expressed in the Inspiration Daily blog are solely those of the original authors and contributors. These views and opinions do not necessarily represent those of Diocesan, the Diocesan staff, or other contributors to this blog.

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The Collapse Of The Open Heart

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Jesus sometimes used hyperbole to get his listeners’ ears open; he talked about plucking out eyes or chopping off hands, which he certainly did not mean literally (he only meant that our spiritual well-being is much more important than our physical well-being). So is he using hyperbole in today’s Gospel? Is he exaggerating for effect? Or does he mean it literally when he tells us we must love our enemies and give our property to those who have already taken it?

Well, yes.

Jesus came to redeem us and also to show us the way to be truly righteous in a world of unrighteousness. In order to do these things, he had to turn our human understanding upside down. He came to demonstrate what real love looks like so that we could see that what we thought we knew is far from actual truth, that God’s ways are far above our ways. But he didn’t leave it there; he also merited for us all the grace needed to empower us to act in God-like ways!

God-like ways are not natural for us, but God’s love and grace fill us and enable us to turn our natural reactions into SUPERnatural reactions! It is not natural to react to those who hate us with love; but God’s love IN us allows us to find ways to love them. It is not natural to let go of what is taken from us, but God’s love IN us allows us to surrender even that. Our human response to actions that infringe on what is rightly ours is to insist on our rights, but God’s generosity IN us allows us to let go of even what is rightly “ours.”

All the “reasonable” considerations and calculations we make when deciding what to give are only human. But God’s love IN us allows us to toss these considerations to the side to answer the call of love with complete self-forgetfulness. So we need to call on that grace to keep us from asking, “What’s in it for me?” (because then we have made ourselves the recipient of our own gift, and it is no gift at all!), or “What will this cost me?” (because then we are counting the cost, which is putting self first, and not the other!).

The natural reaction of the heart is to protect itself, but God’s love IN us helps us see that the real measure of love is the Sacred Heart of Jesus. This Heart was pierced and poured out as complete self-gift for love of you and me. “The collapse of the opened heart is the content of the Easter mystery. The heart saves, indeed, but it saves by giving itself away” (Benedict XVI).

Complete self-giving is not hyperbole or exaggeration. The Gospel is a continual call to let go of our natural tendency toward self-preservation and pour ourselves out – “lose our lives” – for love of God and others. This Lent, what is God calling you to surrender?

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Kathryn Mulderink, MA, is married to Robert, Station Manager for Holy Family Radio. Together they have seven children (including Father Rob), and four grandchildren. She is President of the local community of Secular Discalced Carmelites and has published five books and many articles. Over the last 30 years, she has worked as a teacher, headmistress, catechist, Pastoral Associate, and DRE, and as a writer and voice talent for Catholic Radio. Currently, she serves the Church by writing and speaking, and by collaborating with various parishes and to lead others to encounter Christ and engage their faith. Her website is www.KathrynTherese.com

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You are God’s divinely-loved-ones

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The word that leaped from the page of my Missal this morning was the word “Beloved.” When Jesus is transfigured on the mountain before the three apostles Peter, James, and John, the Father’s voice is heard from the cloud saying: “This is my beloved Son. Listen to him.”

Every child dreams about being the “beloved” of their father or mother. Beloved implies a certain intensity of loving that is warmer and more tender than the simple word “love.” For God to say, “This is my beloved Son” is stronger than saying, “This is my Son. I love him.” You might say that beloved is similar to “dearly loved one.” Beloved is personal: “my beloved Son.” It indicates belonging and affection. 

I have meditated on this passage numberless times, and yet I have never been so touched by the word Beloved as I was this morning. Did the apostles even notice the word the Father used for his Son, for they were clearly frightened by what was happening before them? In the New Testament, the word beloved used in the account of the Transfiguration is ἀγαπητός or agapétos. Wondering how else this same word ἀγαπητός might be used in the New Testament I did a little research.

The Greek word ἀγαπητός has two special applications: the Beloved which is the title of the Messiah who is beloved beyond all others by the God who sent him, and Christians who are beloved by God, Christ and one another.

And this is where it begins to get interesting. I discovered that there are 61 occurrences of the word ἀγαπητός in the New Testament. Only seven of those occurrences refer directly to the words of the Father for his Son at the Baptism of the Lord and the Transfiguration, as we see in the Gospel today. The rest of the times we find these occurrences in the New Testament are in the letters attributed to Paul, Peter, James, John, and Jude. They directly address their fellow Christians and talk about individuals in the community with the welcoming word “beloved.” A helpful translation for ἀγαπητός is “Divinely-loved ones” or “loved by God,” that is, someone who is personally experiencing God’s “agapē-love.” 

Let us listen in on the way these first Christians addressed each other. Paul writes, “I am writing you this not to shame you, but to admonish you as my beloved children” (1 Cor. 4:14), and a few verses later he calls Timothy, “my beloved and faithful son in the Lord.” In the letter to the Ephesians, we are admonished to “be imitators of God, as beloved children” (Eph. 5:1). James addresses the readers of his letter, “Do not be deceived, my beloved brothers” (James 1:16). Peter and John also used the term beloved in direct address: “This is now, beloved, the second letter I am writing to you” (2 Pt 3:1), and “Beloved, I am writing no new commandment to you but an old commandment that you had from the beginning” (1 Jn. 2:7).

In the way the writers of these New Testament letters use the term ἀγαπητός, we get a sense of their warmth of heart, of their care for their fellow Christians, of their selflessness in serving them. It is obvious that they loved the Christians in these communities deeply and dearly, that they had warm friendships, that they esteemed one another, and that they were bound together by mutual love and therefore were beloved to one another. 

Jesus made clear that we were to love as God loves, that we were to love others as Jesus himself has loved us. The Father speaks of his Son as his dearly loved and beloved one. The apostles followed suit even in using the same term in addressing their fellow Christians. 

God loves us totally, unconditionally, selflessly. This is how God loved his Son, and it is how he loves us and those who are our fellow Christians. So the family members and fellow parishioners, friends and colleagues, those we agree with and those we do not, all are dear to us because they are dear to the Father. This wasn’t just some spiritualized form of address for the apostle-writers. There is in the New Testament letters a clear sense of living warmth and belonging, of loving deeply, of being bound together by mutual love, of tenderness and esteem. Consistently they address the Christian community as ἀγαπητός, beloved.

I’m taking away three things from all of this and I propose them to you:

  1. I too often see the word Beloved in direct address as a “throwaway” word, in a sense like Dear at the beginning of a letter. I will never hear the Scriptures again without being aware of the warmth, tenderness, the intensity of esteem and affection with which they are written. Hearing the Word of God in the key of ἀγαπητός helps me realize how much God loves me and how much I personally am loved by the writers of the New Testament as I read the Scriptures written to help me become more beloved of God.
  2. I want to practice looking beyond appearances and consider others as dearly loved, divinely loved, and treat them as the apostles did: with warmth, affection, and selfless attention.
  3. I am, and dear reader so are you, God’s beloved, his dearly loved one, his esteemed and dear favorite. My heart leaps with joy at being God’s beloved in Christ. Often we are urged to think about what it would be like to hear God say to us, “You are my Beloved Son.” How misleading! God effects within us the belonging that binds us together and makes us the beloved of his heart and beloved of one another. We need only open ourselves to the beauty of all God is accomplishing in us through his grace.

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Sr. Kathryn J. HermesKathryn James Hermes, FSP, is the author of the newly released title: Reclaim Regret: How God Heals Life’s Disappointments, by Pauline Books and Media. An author and spiritual mentor, she offers spiritual accompaniment for the contemporary Christian’s journey towards spiritual growth and inner healing. She is the director of My Sisters, where people can find spiritual accompaniment from the Daughters of St. Paul on their journey. Website: www.touchingthesunrise.com Public Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/srkathrynhermes/ For monthly spiritual journaling guides, weekly podcasts and over 50 conferences and retreat programs join my Patreon community: https://www.patreon.com/srkathryn.

Feature Image Credit: Commons Wikimedia,  https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Transfiguration_bloch.jpg

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Whoever Is Ashamed Of Me

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Being ashamed of someone implies a familial relationship, a deep level of caring.  We can get mad at people in whom we have no emotional investment.  Being ashamed is reserved for those for whom we love. 

In today’s Gospel, Jesus reveals that he will be ashamed of whoever is ashamed of him. How painful to see that shame on his face. I want to avoid doing anything that would lead to it but I find sometimes I am ashamed.

 I am ashamed of him when I am too embarrassed to give thanks for my food when in a restaurant.

I am ashamed when I implicitly agree with something wrong because I don’t want to be seen as a weirdo.

I am ashamed when I don’t tell people how profoundly my life has changed for the better because of his love.

I am ashamed when I don’t defend the teachings of the Church as Truth.

It is what I refrain from  doing or saying because I am still too concerned with what others think. The only one whose opinion matters is the Lord’s.

I need to be ok with being judged by strangers, and given today’s faithless and sinful generation, probably mocked or criticized or called names. In this divisive time, secular society has decided what we can and cannot believe and say. Even if we quietly live our Catholic faith, we experience the judgment. As my husband and I went through a deepening of our faith over the past six years or so, we have grown closer to Jesus and farther from some friends. We know that our decision to embrace our Catholicity has turned them off. We don’t preach or condemn but we also don’t hide decisions we have made for ourselves and our family. 

But more and more just living our faith is not enough. Maybe it’s because I’m getting older but I fear for our society. We ran into some neighbors who were telling us how diverse our old block had become but when they described the Orthodox Jewish family as part of a cult, we realized that diversity only applies to lifestyle not religious beliefs. 

I do not ever want Jesus to be ashamed of me – he died to save my soul – so words need to be used. I pray for the courage to use those words and not be ashamed of our Savior.

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Merridith Frediani loves words and is delighted by good sentences. She also loves Lake Michigan, dahlias, the first sip of hot coffee in the morning, millennials, and playing Sheepshead with her husband and three kids. She writes for Catholic Mom, Diocesan.com, and her local Catholic Herald. Her first book Draw Close to Jesus: A Woman’s Guide to Adoration is available at Our Sunday Visitor and Amazon. You can learn more at merridithfrediani.com.

Feature Image Credit: SEVENHEADS, https://pixabay.com/photos/fear-terror-hidden-hands-shame-299679/

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How God Thinks

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When I think of the most relatable person in the Bible, Peter is often the first to come to mind. He messes up. A lot. The event we hear of in the Gospel is one of those times. Rather than embracing Christ’s words with faith, we are told, “…Peter took him [Jesus] aside and began to rebuke him”. But, at the same time, Peter also has great faith in who Jesus is. When Jesus asks Peter who He is, Peter’s response is “You are the Christ”. 

So how does Peter go from a faith-filled acknowledgment that Jesus is Christ, the Messiah who has come to redeem man from his sin, to rebuking Jesus for teaching them the realities of what being the Christ will entail – rejection and death? And what does Jesus’ response mean? “You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.” How can we think like God does instead of as human beings do? 

I think the answer to these questions lies in Peter’s own expectations of what the Messiah, the Christ would be. If Christ is the one who redeems the world, that means that He must be powerful and strong which is what Peter expected. But Christ’s explanation of what He will endure does not exactly align with the typical notion of power and strength. In fact, suffering greatly, being rejected by those in authority, and being killed all sound like the exact opposite of power and strength. But this is what Jesus means by thinking as human beings do. It takes work for us to see the power and strength at the center of God’s plan for salvation.  It took the strength only God possesses for Him to humble Himself, become man, and die on the cross for the sake of our salvation. For us to think as God does, we must let go of our expectations of who Christ is and acknowledge the strength and power that lay in the sacrifice He made for us. 

In our faith, may we remember that our God is humble and strong. It is His strength that freed us from our sins and it is His humility that we seek to imitate when we come to Him in our moments of despair.

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Dakota currently lives in Denver, CO and teaches English Language Development and Spanish to high schoolers. She is married to the love of her life, Ralph. In her spare time, she reads, goes to breweries, and watches baseball. Dakota’s favorite saints are St. John Paul II (how could it not be?) and St. José Luis Sánchez del Río. She is passionate about her faith and considers herself blessed at any opportunity to share that faith with others. Check out more of her writing at https://dakotaleonard16.blogspot.com.

Feature Image Credit: Gime Salvatelli, https://www.cathopic.com/photo/16859-sacrificio